Fuzzy Feelings
by thesoundofsunshine
Summary: Santana watched Princess look like a serial killer as Man Hands and his Hobbit sucked face, while she stayed curled up in Asian Boy's lap. Spoilers for BIOTA.


**Spoiler Alert! This is based off of the promo for Blame It on the Alcohol, (which I had to correct because I had originally written Blaine instead of Blame.) And, I just had to add my guilty pleasure ship (Wes and Santana) to the mix.**

**Note: I've never written drunken characters, so this was kind of a new leap for me. I hope that I didn't write it horribly. And, this is kind of crack-ish. Just fair warning.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

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_Oh, hell no_ was Santana's initial reaction to the Rachel Berry House Party Train Wreck Extravaganza. She didn't want to spend her Friday night with her loud mouth, and (presumably) a huge stack of cheesy musicals. Her thoughts on the party changed when Brittany told her that Dalton boys would be there; well, in Brittany's regular slow, nonsensical way. From then on, Santana thought that this couldn't be so bad because she needed some fresh meat to sink her teeth into.

But, this was something she hadn't been expecting. About an hour into RENT, with Rachel shushing anyone who dared to talk, Puck whipped out the booze. It only took fifteen minutes for the entire lot of kids, Dalton and McKinley alike, to be tipsy hot messes.

Santana slowly made her way to the bathroom to check her lip gloss, ignoring the couples that seemed to be plaguing the basement. The Wheelchair Kid was making it rain on Brittany, who was stripping the night away. She tore her eyes from there, only to see Puck and the White Rhino sharing chocolate fondue and marshmallows. It made her sick.

"Whoa there," Santana heard, bracing herself to collide with the floor, but instead found herself wrapped up in a pair of arms that saved her last bit of dignity.

It wasn't like to her to be a wobbly mess with a shot or two in her. Regardless, she stared at the face, not remembering him from Glee, wondering where she knew him from. He looked kind of familiar, and he was kind of cute. She absentmindedly ran her fingers through his short hair, trying to place where she knew him from.

Her mind flashed back to The Lonely Heart thing that Kurt managed to get all of Nude Erections to. His Hobbit of a boyfriend sang some line about never having love to her, which may or may not have led to a private mental breakdown. The boy cradling her was the one who cozied up next to her after that line.

"I've got it," Santana slurred, hardly able to help herself to stand still. He tentatively let go of his grip on her shoulders. Santana might have needed the help, but she was not the kind of person to blatantly accept it.

"Who's up for a game of spin the bottle?" Rachel all but shrieked, which made Santana sharply turn on her heel. She was not about to lose the opportunity to mack on some Dalton boy. She had seen a couple of them staring at her when she entered the room, after all, they had been estrogen deprived at their all boys school.

"Let me help you," Asian Boy, his new name in Santana's mind, said, to which she shrugged his hands off of her.

"No," Santana huffed, doing her best to sexily saunter away, only to knock into a wall. She made a sour face at the wall, as if it would be able to read her expression of hate for getting in her way.

"Come here," Asian Boy said, tugging Santana onto his lap around the small spin the bottle circle. She curled up on his lap, like she used to sit on her mother's lap when she was a child. She wound her arms around his chest, before placing a sloppy kiss on his neck.

It was decided that Man Hands would spin first because it was her house. (Some logic that was.) And, she landed on the Hobbit, which made Brittany's dolphin look uneasy. Rachel's man hands gripped Curly's shirt, tugging his lips to meet hers. Santana watched in amusement as Kurtsie look like he could have murdered Yentl right then and there.

"Okay, I think we've seen enough!" Kurt managed to squeak out, as the Hobbit obviously slipped his tongue in the Midget's mouth, or vice versa. Santana couldn't help the smirk that fixed itself on her face.

The game continued with nothing too out of the ordinary. Brittany and Mercedes kissed some dapper Dalton boys, the Asian girl macked on the Wheelchair Kid, Frankenteen's lips hit Rachel and Quinn's. In fact, the entire game was turning the group of teenagers into a pile of continuous laughter; this was only amplified when Puck landed on Kurt.

"San, it's your turn," Quinn sweetly said with a giggle, as Santana unfolded herself from Asian Boy's lap. She quickly jerked the bottle, sending it spinning. Her eyes were focused on the every rotation of the bottle, leaving her slightly woozy as it came to a stop.

"Santana can't kiss herself," Brittany slowly said, as Santana started at the bottle that was facing her, "I've tried, and it's not possible."

"No, Britt, it's pointing to Wes," Kurtsie slurred, pointing at Asian Boy, who had a real name, much to Santana's dismay. She felt something in her stomach flutter, almost like she had to throw up. But, the Lopez's were naturally good at holding their liquor. She suppressed those stupid 'butterflies' that people get because she was drunk and this was a game.

Santana's lips collided with Asian Boy's, as her tongue skillfully parted his lips, leaving him to stifle a soft moan. She tangled his fingers in his hair, her tongue exploring his mouth, which tasted of sweet peppermint, instead of vodka like hers reeked of. She pulled her mouth off of his, licking his lips, before turning back to her adorning audience.

"Who's next?" Santana sloppily said, twirling the bottle between her fingers, before it slipped and crashed onto the wooden board used to help the bottle spin better. It started as a smile, which turned into a giggle, which bubbled into laughter, "Oops."

"Warblers, we should be getting back to campus," Wes noted, as Santana felt him trying to shift him off of her lap; she childishly wrapped her arms around him tighter.

"You shouldn't drive drunk!" Yentl warned, surprising Santana with the fact that she still could coherently know the rules about drunk driving.

"I haven't been drinking," Asian Boy modestly said, managing to stand up seeing as how he had to take Santana up with him, "You are awfully clingy for someone who didn't want help earlier."

Santana frowned, immediately dropping her arms to her sides. She was not some clingy person like Man Hands and Q were. She didn't need Puck, or Brittany, and she certainly didn't need Kurt's Hobbit making comments about her lack of a love life. Santana didn't need love. She needed sex. But, as an afterthought, love wouldn't be so horrible to have in her life.

"If you're still interested," Asian Boy snapped Santana out of her drunken thoughts, before uncapping a Sharpie, "Call me when the hangover wears off."

"Only if you always kiss me like that," Santana word vomited, instead of sticking to her vague comments, as her arm tickled as he wrote neat numbers on her forearm. She would have sworn up and down that Puck's vodka was laced with something else because she was never off her game this much.

"Are you guys going to get caught for being drunk?" the Bossy Midget said keeping her composure, before giggling out the word drunk. It was like a brand new word to her.

"Oh Bambi," Kurtsie teared up, as Santana's mind fought its way back to the Capital G Gay kid's first shot at drunkenness; her mind wrapped around Bambi's dad, and puking on that Guidance Counselor that had the hots for Schue.

"I think they'll get a lot of it out of their system on the ride back," Wes started, ignoring Kurt's breakdown about a nostalgic cartoon, before praying that no one puked in his car during the two hour ride back to Dalton, "And, we all have weekend leave to come and go as we please."

"Drive safe, West," Man Hands giggled, thinking that if his name was West, if there were people names North and South out there in the world.

"Come on, Kurt," Curly said, throwing an arm around Princess, as they leaned on each other for support as they climbed the stairs. Santana watched a few Warblers resort to crawling up the stairs on all fours.

"Wait, before you go," Santana's hands groped at air, trying to get Wes back in her grip for just a second. She had been sharing his body heat, and now felt surprisingly cold without him besides her. And, she maybe (just maybe) missed his cologne filling her head.

"What?" Wes impatiently said, not entirely sure how his fellow Warblers would be at getting into his SUV, considering they barely knew their own names at this point.

"You and me. Friday. Stix." Santana smoothly commanded, her hands pressed against Asian Boy's Dalton blazer.

"Call me tomorrow about it," Wes cautiously said, not wanting to get his hopes up about some drunkenly planned date; he knew that they would be broken because when the alcohol wore off, she would see how much of a tight ass he tended to be.

"Fine," Santana uncharacteristically whined, before pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth. To her delight, Asian Boy centered his lips under hers, which she saw those metaphorical fireworks go off. He pulled away with a boyish smile that unleashed those damn 'butterflies' in her stomach.

Santana watched Wes' figure retreat up the stairs, as her mind swarmed with Asian Boy related thoughts. She smirked, wondering if these were the fuzzy feelings that Brittany was always talking about. And, hell, they weren't so bad after all.

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